


open hand

by ghosthunter



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Dubious Consent, M/M, Spanking, shittalking about dougie hamilton, stop taking penalties you fucking bums
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:20:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22150753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghosthunter/pseuds/ghosthunter
Summary: They win the game, but only because Hamilton takes a stupid penalty because he’s pisssed off. Everyone knows it. Even Mrazek is yelling at him as he skates off to the box.TJ is laughing, because TJ is an asshole. Hamilton did what he did, and the Capitals win.But they took too many penalties. Seven minors and a misconduct, and they know what they’re in for after they get to the locker room. They finish media, they finish showering. Some of them get back into their game day suits. More of them don’t.
Relationships: Washington Capitals Ensemble/Washington Capitals Ensemble
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	open hand

**Author's Note:**

> we're flying free without beta. lmk if you see anything egregious.
> 
> ty to llwyncelyn for you know, enabling.

They win the game, but only because Hamilton takes a stupid penalty because he’s pisssed off. Everyone knows it. Even Mrazek is yelling at him as he skates off to the box.

TJ is laughing, because TJ is an asshole. Hamilton did what he did, and the Capitals win.

But they took too many penalties. Seven minors and a misconduct, and they know what they’re in for after they get to the locker room. They finish media, they finish showering. Some of them get back into their game day suits. More of them don’t.

“I don’t want to,” Ilya says. The words are clear, and they all know he understands what’s happening. He’s seen it happen before. But goalies don’t take many penalties, and the Capitals don’t punish their goalies for getting pulled - and Samsonov hasn’t gotten pulled this season, besides.

Evgeny speaks to him softly in Russian, and he looks at Evgeny, the nervousness and desperation on his face.

“No,” he says, sad, upset.

“Everyone takes punishment,” Evgeny says to him. “Even Ovi takes punishment.”

Alex is waiting in his towel to take his swats for his penalty. Everyone knows that he hates it, but he takes it like he’s supposed to. 

“Sammy should get half,” Alex says. “Only ten, not twenty. His penalty wasn’t fair.”

Nicke hums. “Maybe,” he says. “Does everyone agree?”

Several people voice assent.

“So Sammy gets ten, after Judy takes his,” Nicke says. “Then the rest of you. Hags goes last.”

This isn’t unusual for them. Carl goes last any time he has to do punishment, because he’s Nicke’s. Someone has to be there to provide aftercare, and Nicke can’t do that if he’s still giving punishment. Whoever has the most minutes usually goes first. It’s usually Tom. Tonight it’s Nic, for throwing Svechnikov’s stick into the stands.

It was funny. It was fucking stupid, but it was funny.

Nic stands, drops his towel. That’s part of it; the humiliation of being punished for what you did, in front of the rest of the team. Being spanked, nude, in front of the rest of them. The penalty is typically 10 swats per penalty minute.

Nic had a misconduct. Nic should get 100 swats, based on that logic. But none of them can be injured, and 100 is too many, results in real bruising. No one takes more than 50. Ever.

He chooses his position, bends over the bench in the center of the room. Face down, ass up, on his knees.

The room is quiet, so they all hear the sharp slap and Nic’s intake of breath when Nicke’s first blow lands. Nicke delivers the first ten smacks slowly and rhythmically as Nic counts each one. 

After ten, Nicke stops. He points at Garnet, still sitting in his stall, with the paddle.

“Color,” Garnet says. 

“Green,” Nic says, without even a tremor in his voice. His skin is starting to turn pink, and this time the blows aren’t so rhythmic. He changes the movement, the location, moves down Nic’s thighs and changes the pressure. He does a color check again after twenty, and again after thirty. They’re almost to forty, the room is still dead silent, and a particularly hard blow draws a yelp from Nic.

“Yellow,” he says, and Nicke pauses. Garnet is on his feet and across the room to kneel next to Nic, to pet his hands over Nic’s hair, to reassure him. To tell him how good he is. To tell him he’s almost done, then he can get up, then Garnet will take care of him.

“Color,” Garnet says, his voice loud and clear for everyone in the room.

“Green,” Nic says. Fifty smacks is a lot. Fifty from Nicke is even more, because Nicke is strong, and can put a lot of weight and strength into it.

He counts through the last few swats, then Garnet has him. Each of them has a partner, whether their sub or their dom, to take care of them once they’ve been spanked. Nicke stands there, watches Garnet lean in close, pet his hands over Nic’s hair, whisper to him. Nic doesn’t really care for being spanked, doesn’t enjoy the pain or the humiliation the way some of the other guys do.

Nicke turns to Ilya.

“How do you want it? Standing? Bent over, like Nic?” Nicke asks.

“Not,” Ilya says, sulky.

“Over my knee,” Nicke suggests.

“It’s the gentlest way, because then he can really only use his hand,” Alex puts in.

“Doesn’t hurts?” Ilya asks.

“Hurts less,” Alex says. Ilya keeps his towel clutched around him, and he walks to Nicke, his mouth turned down. He doesn’t want to do this.

Garnet has Nic up off the bench and over to Garnet’s stall, laid down on a sheet they’ve thrown onto the floor. They’ve put ice packs onto the reddened, angry skin of Nic’s ass and thighs, and Garnet is lying next to him, rubbing Nic’s back, whispering to him.

Nicke sits down on the bench and motions Ilya into position. Ilya fidgets with his towel, because he doesn’t want to drop it. Nicke reaches out and tugs at it.

“Naked,” Nicke says, his voice hard.

Ilya is blushing furiously as he fumbles with his towel, trying to shield himself from the rest of the team. It’s different to be naked in a locker room, showering and getting ready, and everything else. With this, he’s on display for everyone to watch him. For everyone to see him naked.

He doesn’t want them looking at him.

“Ilya,” Nicke says. Ilya takes a deep breath and bends himself over Nicke’s lap and lets the towel fall. It’s awkward and uncomfortable and Ilya hates every single second of it.

The first smack startles a yelp from him, and Evgeny swoops in immediately to sit next to Ilya’s head, his voice soft as he speaks in Russian. Ilya responds.

“Green,” Evgeny says.

“He needs to say it,” Nicke says.

“Green,” Ilya says. His voice cracks.

Nicke’s spanking is slow and steady, and even though it’s only ten blows, Ilya is almost in tears at the end of it. Goalies don’t get punished, not like this. Well, some goalies do. Ilya never has.

He scrambles off of Nicke’s lap as soon as the tenth blow lands and into Evgeny’s arms, burying his face into Evgeny’s shoulder. He didn’t want anyone to see him being spanked, and he definitely doesn’t want anyone to know how upset he is by it. It was a bullshit penalty. He shouldn’t have been punished at all.

Evgeny tells him that, whispers it in Russian in his ear, ignores the derisive snort Alex gives when he overhears it. He gets Ilya up and away from where Nicke is sitting, and back to Ilya’s stall. Ilya doesn’t want to sit, not on his ass while it’s still stinging, so he stays on his knees, leans into Evgeny, lets Evgeny stroke fingers through his hair.

Nicke takes Lars next, and then works through Alex and Tom in quick succession. In an ideal world, he’d take them in order of the penalties they took, but a misconduct doesn’t allow him to do that, and one of them being his own sub complicates it even more.

Lars takes his twenty swats without issue. It’s a little trickier with Alex and Tom. Tom is Alex’s sub, has been Alex’s sub for years, and in theory they should be providing aftercare for each other. Nicke knows that Dmitry will step in and make sure they’re seen to.

Alex hates being spanked and takes it with gritted teeth, bent over the bench next to Tom, squeezing Tom’s hand tightly in his. Nicke knows that Tom likes deeper, heavier pain, not the sharp sting of a spank.

Carl is last because he’s Nicke’s, and Nicke isn’t going to let anyone else take care of him.

The last two before him - TJ and Jonas - he keeps because they like it. And that’s annoying. He can look over at TJ and see the color in his cheeks, the tent of the fabric over his cock. Jonas is more subtle, because it doesn’t take much to be more subtle than TJ, but he’s moved from his own stall to sit next to Radko. He’s not supposed to have moved.

Nicke will take him first, because he won’t have to yell at Jonas for trying to rub himself off while he’s getting spanked.

Probably.

It’s a little bit different, and Nicke doesn’t know if it’s Jonas trying to prove that he’s tough, or if he genuinely likes taking it this way, but he stands, his hands pressed against the wall, as Nicke gives him his licks.

Nicke doesn’t like when they enjoy it; it’s punishment for things that shouldn’t have happened during the game. Delay of game is a stupid penalty to take, even if Nicke knows that it’s fueled by panic and it’s unintentional. Even so, Nicke resents the way Jonas’s voice starts to tremble as he counts up toward his twentieth smack, and he gives the last few harder than he would anyone else. Anyone but TJ, maybe. He knows that Jonas can take it.

“Get him out of here,” Nicke says. He wishes he make Jonas sit there on his stinging ass with his dick hard and think about what he did, but he doesn’t want to push the rookie into subdrop because that’s no good for anyone. Instead, he watches as Radko pulls Jonas’s hands away from the wall and leads him out of the room, back toward the showers.

The next thing they’ll all be hearing soft gasps and moans as Radko gets Jonas off just out of sight. It’s not the first time it’s happened.

TJ is already draping himself over the bench without Nicke having to ask with a wiggle of his hips that he probably thinks that Nicke doesn’t see.

“You’re not allowed to get yourself off,” Nicke says. “You know that.”

TJ whines, because that’s the type of sub he is.

“Carly,” Nicke says.

“You know better, babe,” John says. He’s lounging in his own stall, watching as Nicke hefts the paddle in his hands. Ilya is dressed and quiet, leaning heavy against Evgeny. Garnet is rubbing lotion slowly into the still-red skin of Nic’s ass and the backs of his thighs.

Nicke gives TJ a hard smack without warning to make him yelp. He doesn’t yelp, really, as much as he moans into it. Nicke thinks he hates TJ, a little bit.

“Stop enjoying this, it’s punishment,” Nicke says, irritated with him. There’s nothing really he can do about it, it’s just the way TJ reacts to this. John smacks him on the ass all the time. Tom smacks him on the ass on the ice, for fuck’s sake. Nicke doesn’t think about it until he’s doling out punishment and TJ is enjoying it.

Nicke thinks he’s going to have to float a different idea for TJ, and maybe for Jonas too. TJ, he thinks, would benefit from forced chastity. He’ll sit down with John and discuss it. But not tonight.

TJ doesn’t need breaks, but Nicke has to vary his method. Erratic rhythm, harder smacks. Doing this to TJ is useless and all of them know it. At least he doesn’t take penalties to make it happen more. Nicke suspects that John would stop playing with TJ at all, if TJ did that.

By the time Nicke is done with TJ, Radko is back with Jonas, glassy-eyed and pressed against him. Whatever John will do with TJ in the shower room - it will be louder than what Radko has just done to Jonas. Nicke will try and ignore it.

Carl is waiting, looking up at Nicke. He’s last.

“Hi,” Carl says, his voice soft as he walks up to Nicke.

“Hands?” Nicke asks. Twenty is a lot for hands, but it’s Carl. Nicke will do whatever Carl wants.

“Please,” Carl says.

“On the bench,” Nicke says to him.

Carl gets down to his knees, his ass presented to Nicke. Nicke likes the way he looks, stretched out like this, his skin pale and his hair falling over his face. Nicke reaches out and pushes Carl’s hair back behind his ear just so he can see Carl’s face.

“Ready?” Nicke asks him.

“Yes,” Carl says.

The first five blows are fast, alternating between the cheeks of Carl’s ass, a smooth rhythm before Nicke starts giving two on each side, up to ten.

“Color,” Nicke says, his voice quiet. They have to speak English, loud enough for everyone to hear. Everyone has to know that Carl is consenting, that he’s okay to go on. Those are the rules.

“Green,” Carl says.

Nicke works up and down, varying the smacks, giving some of them as hard as he can to the smooth, firm curve of Carl’s ass. He’s going to be stinging when they get on the bus. They’ve taken a lot of time, and they need to get moving soon.

The last blow echoes in the quiet of the locker room, and Nicke is close enough that he can hear Carl’s breathing, almost normal, just a little bit ragged.

“Beautiful,” Nicke says to him, switching to Swedish. He strokes a hand over Carl’s hair. Carl rests his cheek against the bench and smiles. Nicke leans down and kisses him on the temple.

“Everyone getting dressed,” Alex says, used to giving orders in the room even if he’s received punishment. If Nicke had taken a penalty, Alex would have been the one to discipline Nicke.

“Can you get up?” Nicke asks Carl. “Or do you need a minute?” Nicke knows exactly how long they can push it before he absolutely has to get Carl into his suit and headed for the bus, and it’s likely they’ll still beat Nic and Garnet there. That’s fair, Nicke thinks, given the punishment Nic has taken, comparatively. 

“Just a second,” Carl says. He can answer, and that’s good. Spanking isn’t something they do outside of discipline, but it’s easy to put Carl deep. Nicke sits on the floor next to him, strokes his fingers through Carl’s hair and rubbing his other hand slowly over the hot, red skin of Carl’s ass.

There’s more noise in the room now, mostly the rustle of people getting into their clothes. Some of the guys, the ones not involved in the disciplinary action, leave to head for the bus. The rest of them start to trickle out - Lars, Alex, Tom. Ilya leaves with Evgeny’s arm draped across his shoulders, Evgeny still speaking to him in quiet Russian. 

TJ isn’t dressed yet but at least John has him out of the showers, and Nicke notices with irritation that Radko has both of Jonas’s wrists gripped in his hand, talking to him. He can’t hear what Radko is saying. They definitely need to come up with a better way of disciplining those two.

“Come on,” Nicke says, and helps Carl up to his feet so that he can get dressed, kissing him softly on the forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> on twitter @notedgoon probably contemplating cock cages


End file.
